Forever Changed
by N.S.L. Jewelles
Summary: A little vignette, a sort of prologue to Episode III: The night before Anakin leaves for the Outer Rim, Padme cannot help but worry...


**Forever Changed**

_**Lying beside you here in the dark, feeling your heart beat with mine, softly you whisper; you're so sincere. How could our love be so blind? **Open Arms_

_The Outer Rim._

Just the thought of it sent shivers down Padmé's spine. Rain lashed at the windows of the penthouse apartment on Coruscant, and though she usually ignored it, it was quite impossible. Somewhere out in that rain was Anakin, receiving his final debriefing from Master Yoda. _Obi-Wan is with him; I have nothing to worry about_, she told herself continually as she slowly removed herself from her dress, pulling a shift from a drawer and slipping it on.

Then the tears came, hot and scalding as ever. Looking out at the rain, Padmé couldn't help but think that somehow things were changing, and not only between herself and Anakin. Things were just…changing. The Senate was falling apart at the seams; the once strong government she had worked so hard to uphold was crumbling, and everyone knew it. _Get out now_, someone had warned her when the Trade Federation had been attacking Naboo when she was a naïve queen of fourteen. _Get out now,_ were Master Windu's exact words when her life had been threatened three years ago. And something inside her had been saying the same thing at the lake retreat on Naboo when she and Anakin shared their first kiss.

Now, there was no turning back. Her people needed her. Anakin needed her, and somehow that kept the tears going, the fact that there were things she could no longer escape, even though she had never had intentions of doing just that. She was a woman of conviction, of good morals, and she had her goals; never was she one to fall, and no matter what she would stand by what she believed in.

When word had come to the Senate that the Chancellor had been taken hostage by General Grievous and was being held in the Outer Rim, the slow descent of the Senate into turmoil erupted into a downward spiral. Chaos had reigned, but only until it had been announced that two Jedi, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice Anakin Skywalker, would be taking on the mission to save him. Padmé had kept her composure, tried harder than anything to not show her immediate feeling of fear for her husband and his mentor, but inside it was tearing her apart.

Slowly, Padmé pulled back the comforter on the bed and crept beneath the sheets, pulling the blanket up to her chin and burying her face in the pillow. One of her hairpins, placed at an odd angle, poked her fiercely in the side of the head, and she raised up for long enough to entangle it from her thick, curly locks and place it on the bedside table. She'd left the lights off when she'd changed; darkness always seemed a comfort. When it was dark, nothing could change. Lights flickered; darkness remained.

Padmé awoke with a start when she heard the door of the apartment open; Anakin. She had not expected him home, just a hologram in the morning with his whereabouts and a brief affirmation of his love for her. Drowsy, Padmé sat up and, not bothering to get out of bed or turn on a lamp, she said, loudly enough to be heard from the other end of the apartment, "Home so soon?"

From the sitting room, Anakin turned on a light, and the brightness of it, though faint, burned Padmé's eyes, and she threw an arm up to shield them. "The Chancellor's in no immediate danger," Anakin said, handing his wet cloak to one of the household droids. "And besides, you know Obi-Wan; never do anything before meditating for a good solid two hours."

Padmé chuckled slightly as Anakin continued towards her, removing pieces of clothing one right after the other, stripping the damp fabric from his body. "Turn off the light, will you?" she requested, sinking back into the bed and burying herself beneath the soft fabric of the sheets once more.

The glow of the lamp ceased to be, the apartment plunging once again into utter darkness as the sounds of the rain outside increased, pelting the glass of the windows and lending the room an ethereal and yet distinctly aquatic quality.

Padmé felt Anakin move into the bed beside her and tuck the already-warm sheets around him. Half asleep, she felt him press a soft kiss to her temple before finding a comfortable position on his own side of the bed. She couldn't help but feel every motion he made, so very aware of his being human and alive, and of him being with her for what might be the last time. Every time was like it was their last, never knowing what would come, never knowing what the next day would bring.

Under the blankets, Padmé's hand found Anakin's robotic hand, cool, smooth and hard. She knew he could barely feel her touches there unless she used pressure, so she settled to just sense that inhuman part of him, knowing that he wasn't moving from her side.

"Anakin?" the whisper passed from her lips into the darkness like silk, soft and melodious. "Anakin?" she said again, raising her voice and sitting up. She felt him stir and then turn to face her, brushing a lock of hair from his brilliantly blue eyes.

"What is it, Padmé?" he asked tenderly, reaching his non-mechanical hand out to touch her cheek. "What's bothering you?" Padmé bit her lip, feeling cold inside from all of the worry. "Padmé, you're so pale. Tell me what's wrong." Anakin stared into her eyes and she gave him an accusatory stare. "I'm not using any mind tricks on you, Padmé. Please, I want to help you."

Looking across the bed at her husband, his face contorted with worry, Padmé responded, "You won't come back." She had not to say another word, for he understood.

Gathering Padmé in his arms, Anakin tried desperately to quiet her nerves. "You say that every time, Padmé. What makes this so different?" It was true; every mission Anakin had been sent on with Obi-Wan sent Padmé into depression over what seemed to her his imminent death. He had yet to die, or even be hurt to any great degree, but for the scar across his eye from a battle on Kessel.

"Anakin, you've never been so far away," she confessed, burying her face in the crook of his neck, letting his arms snake around her back. "You'll be gone for months to a place where God knows what could happen to you!" Anakin shifted away and held his wife at a distance.

"Padmé, I don't know what to say. This is my duty." His face, though full of concern, revealed his seemingly innate quality of determination.

"And this is mine," she replied quietly. Sensing the quizzical look from her husband, Padmé continued, "It is every wife's duty to worry for her husband, Anakin, and I suppose I must worry more than most."

"Don't you trust me?" Anakin cut in, his voice gentle but sharp. Padmé said nothing. "Padmé, I'll come back to you, I promise. There is nothing in the world I love more than you, Padmé," he confessed, pulling Padmé into his arms and holding her close.

"I have such a terrible feeling about this, Anakin," Padmé murmured. "I don't know what it is and I don't know why but this mission just seems so…cursed." Anakin pulled back, staring at her. "The Senate is falling apart, the Jedi can't seem to…"

"Don't talk about the Jedi, Padmé," Anakin interrupted her harshly, and she looked away. "I'm sorry, Padmé. I didn't mean for it to come off that…"

"No, I understand," Padmé assured him, touching her hand to his cheek. They sat there quietly, close enough to sense one another's breath but not close enough to truly feel each other. Padmé's eyes wandered about the apartment, seeing the rain trickling down the glass, the shadows on the carpets, the tiny blue light of one of the droids in the other room.

"Anakin, things are going to be different once you leave. It's not…" Padmé started.

"I leave all the time, Padmé, and you don't make such a big deal out of it then, do you?" Anakin looked at her with scrutiny.

"I'm trying not to overreact, Anakin, really," she said softly, almost ashamed.

"Then why are you?" The bitterness in his voice was enough to nearly kill her right then and there; silence seemed her only option and, without saying another word, she turned over to face the opposite side of the apartment, her back to her husband, and curled up under the blankets once more.

After a few minutes of painful and heavy silence, Padmé felt Anakin's normal hand on her bare shoulder. "I'm sorry, Padmé. Truly, I am." Turning to face him, Padmé saw a single tearstain on his cheek but no sign of actual tears. "Padmé, I can't leave with you angry at me."

She threw herself into Anakin's awaiting arms and he settled onto his back, Padmé's upper body halfway across his own. "When will you be gone?"

"We leave at dawn," he replied solemnly, running his hands, both of them, up and down her arms. "I'll send you a hologram tomorrow evening, Padmé, I promise. You have nothing to worry about."

Trying not to sound weak and helpless again, Padmé asked, "How long will it take, Anakin?" Her eyes searched his, begging for answers she didn't know if he could give.

"I don't know, Padmé. Weeks, maybe. Months, probably." At those words, Padmé collapsed on top of her husband, crying against him. His fingers tangled in her hair and stroked her cheeks, trying desperately to soothe. To Padmé, the crying, though unavoidable, had no use. Things would just happen, and there was nothing she could do to stop them, not this time.

"I love you, Anakin," Padmé whispered, wiping a tear from her own cheek.

"I love you too, Padmé," Anakin responded, pulling her against him. "And I will no matter how far apart we are." Kissing her forehead, Anakin let her rest her head on his chest and find comfort in his embrace.

As her husband drifted off to sleep, Padmé couldn't help but think about all of the things they had done, all of the things left to do. The one thing standing out in her mind was their pact not to be any more intimate than kissing and impromptu caressing. If this was truly their last night as she had the strange feeling it was…

No. She would go for her next physical, which was close at hand, and her nonexistent innocence would prompt questions from the physicians, which would undoubtedly lead to rumors in the Senate. All it would take was for someone to slip the word that Senator Padmé Amidala was not a virgin and the whole place would be in an uproar. Unmarried Senator Amidala, a woman of good morals and of class, had given herself away? Despicable!

And yet the thought remained that she and her husband of nearly three years had not been close as other couples their age had. Naturally, their situation was different than most, but that did not necessarily justify celibacy. Padmé had never been a believer in excessive physicality with one's lover, but to live her whole life without contact, to never be so close to the only man she'd ever loved…

It was with that thought ringing in her head that she shook Anakin awake once more. "Padmé, what's wrong?" he groaned, turning to face her, his eyes heavy-lidded with sleep.

"Anakin," she said softly, her voice shaking, "if you don't come back…"

"We've been over this, Padmé. I _will_ come back to you," Anakin replied, brushing a strand of hair from his wife's face.

"But if you don't…" Padmé could see that Anakin wasn't going to stand for her ranting any longer, and immediately cut her pitiful sentiment short. "Anakin, we've talked about…consummating our marriage?" She could feel Anakin's heart rate increase beneath her hand.

"Padmé, I don't see why…" Padmé pressed a finger to his lips.

"I need this now, and so do you," she said calmly, testing the waters, seeing how far he was willing to go on the topic before either shoving her away or giving in to the mutual desire. "It has been nearly three years Anakin; there is certainly nothing we need worry about now." Naturally there were things to worry about, Padmé knew, but it had to happen, then and there. She couldn't entertain the possibilities if he left and never came back, leaving her virgin and alone with her heart broken.

"Padmé, you're sure that this is what you want?" Anakin asked her, his eyes searching, as if she was fully lying to him. "There is no going back, Padmé."

"I'm not so naïve as to think this could be reversed, Anakin," Padmé said with a laugh. "I would never have brought it up if I didn't want this." Silently praying she would not be turned away after all, Padmé brought her lips down to her husband's, kissing him gently but with intentions of much more.

As Anakin caved beneath her kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, Padmé could not help but think that however much she wanted this, things would continue to change. It was as Anakin rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the mattress that she realized that she'd made the right decision. And it was as his hands flew to the hem of her shift that she knew that the events of the night would change their lives…forever.


End file.
